Barefoot Interlude

In the midst of the healing and waiting, I've done a bit of barefoot shuffling up and down the driveway. Exercise and exposure to sunlight are two things I can to do help boost my brain's serotonin production. I'll admit that while I was so exhausted, I did a lot more sitting in the sunshine than exercising.
But the attractive thing about barefoot running was that I am still at the point where I'm just toughening up my feet and should really only go for a few minutes a day. It was a perfect fit!

So now I've been doing much better for 5 whole days and I am starting to get a bit more adventurous. My feet are tough enough now that I can handle the loose pea gravel of our lightly traveled street. Over the weeks I've progressed from a patiently standing on that sharp junk, to hobbling, then slow, wincing steps, then a grandma shuffle, and now a normal brisk walk. It is pretty cool!
I made it to the end of our street today for the first time. And I had the fun realization that once I get down the 1/10th mile of our sharp street, I'm on a more highly traveled road, which feels like butter.
Things might get exciting here soon. So, the barefoot experiment has outlasted the free pedicure at least. Meh, we'll see. No promises, though.

Long Overdue: Venezuela. The People Shots

Our team with Keith after a day of sharing on the Geography campus.

Bethany, Keith, Emily. We were all pretty exhausted by this point in the evening. Keith was pretending like he didn't take an overnight bus to come visit. Also pretending like he actually got hot water in his shower. Also pretending like he wasn't about to get on another overnight bus to go back home.

Erin, Emily, and Brenna.

Bethany O., Dave, Aaron, and Grace at Mogambo's restaurant.

Erin, Bethany O., Danielle, Brenna, Leah, and Jenn (front) after a weekly meeting on the Forestry campus.

Me with my very tiny friend Elvia at an outreach Fiesta. I kind of forgot she was up there. I carry a heavier pack when I go backpacking.

Outreach Fiesta. Because it's not salsa or merengue, we'll call it "dancing like white people."

JJ, Bethany S., Luis, Yuliana, Emily, and Wale. They said, "make a face." Check.

Got to love a zoo where you can touch the monkeys. Liability laws? Who needs 'em?

Mid-project retreat....we ran really hard on-campus and took a couple of days to play hard, too. Lots of screaming on the zipline!

Hammock wonderland!

I taught them all the Preston family tradition of upside-down hammock hanging. Bethany took this as an invitation to a personal, cushioned hammock. Joke's on her. It was just a steely mass of muscle. Posture-pedic hammock, I guess.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, Erin would like to demonstrate for you the proper way to apply insect repellent....pay attention. This is serious. She teaches elementary schoolers.

Yeah, she thought that was pretty funny, too. Thanks for your rapt attention, folks. Cookies and chocolate milk for everyone!

Skepto-mania

Every morning I get up wondering if this is going to be the day that I'm going to be *Ka-BAM!* full of energy and all better. I walk to the coffee pot looking over my shoulder, mostly in a figurative sense, but sometimes literally, expecting the familiar wall of fatigue to hit me. And in the past couple weeks of waiting for these meds to kick-in, that's pretty much how I go about the day.

The past 2 mornings it hasn't been the dramatic *Ka-BAM!* that I was expecting. What I'm experiencing feels more like the soft click of shifting gears on a bike. When I wake up it feels easier to pedal than it did the day before, which is GREAT feeling. And I've been able to stay awake all day and even be functional. Awesome!

In the midst of this I am definitely seeing Emily the Skeptic and the Mocker more clearly. She's always there with the "Yeah, but's..." "Yeah, you're feeling pretty good now, Preston, but how long is that going to last?" "Yeah, God's been good to you now, but..." And the skepticism and lies from the toilet can just continue on from there, if I let them. So I try not to.

But maybe that's part of the lesson that I get to learn, part of the refining that I get to go through in this season? Learning to actively rest in the TRUTH of Who God is. He is good. I've given my life to telling people that, so maybe I should start living it a little more, huh? I know, I know, we'll spend a lifetime growing in our understanding of our relationship with Him in light of His character.

"give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
-1 Thessalonians 5:18

I read that last night and my heart sank as tears welled-up. They were good tears. Godly sorrow that brings repentance (2 Cor 7:10) sort of tears as I realized that here I am in this sickness complaining. But I've forgotten about giving thanks in ALL circumstances. Sometimes that word "all" can really sting, you know? But it's right there in God's word. And I did a little bit of research. It turns out that in the original Greek "all circumstances," really isn't that bad. It actually just means, "EVERYTHING."
I'm making a joke, but the tears indicate that I'm learning a serious lesson. Whether I see it or not, I am called to give thanks. I'd like to be the kind of person who gives sincere thanks. So while I may not see a whole lot to be thankful for in the crevasse of this sickness, I'm going to try giving thanks by faith a try.

"Why, Shirley, that inheritance IS delightful!"

LORD, You have assigned me my portion and my cup;
You have made my lot secure.
the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance. -Psalm 16:5-6

So, an ironic twist to the new chapter of joy: I am going through the physical symptoms of depression. Some of you might be able to personally relate to this. If you've never been through it, let me just say, it is miserable. It's like slogging through wet cement. Taking a shower is exhausting to the point of being almost painful. I feel so little like myself that I don't even want to engage with anyone because I just feel flat and not myself.Okay, so here's the deal: in January of 2007 (feel free to go check out the blog archives from '07 to get more of the story) I got really sick while I was living in Venezuela. Eventually I came back to the US to try and get some answers I couldn't get in Venezuela.
I'll give you the short version of what the Infectious Disease doc said. I got a mosquito-borne infection somewhere in Venezuela and for most people it would have been no big whoop. But my body overreacted to it and actually shifted my brain chemistry. Kinda cool, except it waaay screwed up my brain.
The end result is that I am very low on serotonin, just like people that have depression. So, all the same symptoms and same medication. The awesome thing is that it's an easy fix, really. Just some meds that don't really have much side-effect.

I've known since this whole process started that as time wore on the medication would plateau in its effect and I'd have to start taking a higher dose. Not really a big deal, exactly, except the only way I know it's time is when I hit the plateau. Well, I hit the plateau. I'm not sure how long I've been here because it takes a while to figure it out. But I'll tell you this much, they call it a plateau, but it feels more like a crevasse. Crevasse with a capital...well, I'll let you choose which 3 letters of crevasse I want to capitalize and we'll keep this a family place. It's deep, dark, lonely, and I am just waiting for help to arrive. The extra meds should do just that any day now.

One of these mornings I am fully expecting to wake up with those drugs dancing around my brain like some sort of dream team of Shakira meets Beyonce meets Justin Timberlake pretending to be Beyonce and I will be singing some sort of victory song. ("Eye of the Tiger" has been my standard, but it doesn't really fit with the dance crew I've just lined up...could go with Shakira, but her videos don't go with my earlier "family place" comment, so let's go with "Footloose." It's a classic, plus there's this suh-weet video I can put up with it).

Playing footsie

The barefoot running experiment continues. Still liking it so far. Breaking in the new "shoes" is a slow process though.
I did not have the courage to tell Yong the nail technician about it during the pedicure. She kind of thinks I'm a little crazy already. "You so pretty. I don't know why you aren't dating." Meh. Whatever. And then I asked her for a French tip paint job on the toes and she looked at me a bit horrified, "Your bruises are going to show!" (I have some killer bruised toenails from trail running last month. I figure a battle scar is no good if you don't get a chance to show it).
At another point she said, "Make sure you take care of your nails. You runners, always running in too small shoes and coming in with deformed nails." "Oh, don't you worry, Yong. My shoes definitely will not be too tight."
As I continue to get my feet adjusted to this whole barefoot concept, there's a bit of toughening-up to do. And I today as I looked at my scuffed up soles, I laughed realizing that I should have been explaining barefoot running to my FEET during the pedicure. If I had, it would have gone something like this: "You see, Feet, right now you are covered in lotion and wrapped in hot towels. But pretty soon you little princesses will be looking hard core. Don't get used to this. You'll just have to take it on faith that whole verse about 'how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.'"

Joyful, joyful, and a bulldozer.

In the night forlorn,
ah, the morning's born,
and the morning shines
with the lights of love.
You will miss the sunrise
if you close your eyes,
and that would break
my heart in two.

-Townes Van Zandt, "If I Needed You."

This new season of joy puzzles me at times. For the past week I have been down and O-U-T with a migraine. Yeah, a week-long migraine. Well, it took Sunday off, so maybe it's holy. But pretty much a week of having zero capacity for anything. Sometimes I could read, or check email, or an all-important Facebook status update. I don't get it. I'm supposed to be taking the world by storm right now. I'm supposed to be raising support like a hurricane and busting my way to Dallas like nobody's business so that I, Emily Preston, can singlehandedly save thousands upon thousands of people from dying of waterborne illnesses, lift them out of poverty and put the Gospel in their hands.

Right.

The thing about these headaches is that they feel an awful lot like a bulldozer attack (no, I've never been attacked by a bulldozer) and the only weapon I have is a little slingshot full of these teeny, tiny pills the doctor gave me. Hey, have you ever tried to stop a bulldozer with a pill? Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe if you are a good thrower. But it appears that, for me, pills are just like any other object: I throw them like a girl. A scrawny girl who is not at the top of her fourth grade gym class, for that matter. *tink*tink* The pills hit the windshield (pretend with me that they get that high) and the bulldozer scoffs in diesel fumes and keeps on a comin'.

I'm not entirely sure why I get these headaches. But I have a couple of theories. First, they are a big, fat reminder that I need God and I need other people. Good grief, did you read that paragraph about how I'm supposed to be taking the world by storm? Productive? Sure. But who wants to be friends with Hurricane Emily? She's just a pride monster. It is a good thing to need help from other people. It is a good thing to be weak and allow God's strength to be shown through me, to me and around me. These verses came to mind this morning:

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. that is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

And my second theory has to do with the song lyrics at the beginning of this post. In the night forlorn the morning's born. Let me explain. Last night as I was getting ready for bed I finally started feeling really good. And I started getting really excited about the next day. A few things in particular were getting my blood pumping and my smile muscles working. Call me simple, but I was genuinely excited about the sun coming up. I just wanted to run out of the house and yell "Good Morning!!" to it. But I still had a few hours of sleeping before I could do that. And there I was taking my new headache medication, which means one and a half pills. Tricky. And then I had this ridiculous thought (I kid you not), "Oooh! Maybe this means someone will get me a pill cutter for Christmas!" Are you kidding me?! Who thinks that?! Who gets excited about a pill cutter? Sincerely excited about a pill cutter.

In the brighter moments of the headache, I'd finished reading the book Born to Run, which inspired me to give barefoot running a try. I pattered up and down the driveway a few times that evening while playing fetch with the dog and LOVED it, so I was really looking forward to trying it out a bit more. (Please digress with me and laugh at the irony of becoming inspired to pick up barefoot running while incapacitated by a migraine. Multiply that by twenty because I'm going to have to explain this to Yong, the Korean-Texan-American nail technician when we go in for a mother-daughter pedicure appointment tomorrow. Let's just say either the pedicure or the barefoot running is going to stick around, but it won't be both).
I think it's this with the headaches: they are the night forlorn. That long, lonely, painful place that sharpens the vision to see the first shafts of morning light creeping across the sky and sends out the alarm that it's time to grab the cup of coffee and get ready to stand in the driveway and yell, "GOOD MORNING!" to the sun because it's finally coming! And wouldn't you hate to miss seeing it rise? If it weren't for the headaches, I'd be content with sleeping through the sunrise and might take for granted the fact that the sun had risen at all. (If you're rolling your eyes because you think I've gone cliche with the sunrise I'll give you Option B: I would take for granted the fact that somebody got me a pill cutter for Christmas and the simple/bizarre joy of being properly medicated.)
And while I am keeping my eyes open in that night forlorn, waiting, it gives God an opportunity to show up in a way that only He can. In my weakness He pulls through and His power rests on me. Shoot, if that's not cool, I don't know what is.

Funk Off.

Hmmmm...nearly 4 months since the last blog post. Where to pick up? Well, if it's been a while since we've chatted, I changed jobs (more on that later), moved to Texas (again), and entered into a de-lightful (drink in the sarcasm) communication funk.
Well, cheer-up, little campers, the funk is off!
A couple of weeks ago I packed up the last of my things at the house in Salt Lake and started hauling the trailer eastward over the mountains. I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from the day, but I was thinking something more along the line of tears, wistful musing about the chapter I left behind in Utah, maybe even a little fear about what's to come in Dallas. YET, what I experienced was none of the above. (Sidenote for my dearly loved and missed Utahans: just because I did not experience any of those things, I STILL REALLY, REALLY LOVE YOU...and not because you are maybe the only people who read this)
What I felt that day was joy. It was like God just flipped a switch and tired, melancholy, communication-funky Emily was gone and in her place was joyful, content, confident, singing like Nashville talent scouts had bugged her truck for sound. (Why is it that some of us only sing really well alone in our cars? I digress.) I was blindsided by joy and it was incredible.
And the next morning after staying with some great friends in Colorado Springs, I sat outside of a coffee shop soaking up the morning light and drinking a cup of coffee with Pike's Peak. The grandeur of the backdrop led me to Psalm 121 (if you don't know what I'm talking about check it out here ) and then there was the last verse, "the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore." Psalm 121:8. Right there in that moment it was like God was reminding me of what He's been saying to me all along, "Emily, I'm not kidding. I love you. Always have. Always will." (He uses a Braveheart accent for that last line because He likes that movie, too).
So, that's it for now. Lots of big changes. A new season of joy. And hopefully a little more excitement for those of you cruising by the ole blogspot.

This year in US Campus Ministry....

This is 3 minutes well spent (and countless hours, I'm sure, on the part of the folks that put it together). Even though I've spent the past 2 years in campus ministry in the U.S. I couldn't help but be encouraged at this snapshot of what God is doing in the lives of university students nationwide.

Stolen goods in an offshore account.

I waver. Just how smart is the dog, I wonder? There are times where she seems to know exactly what's going on and how to push my buttons. Like how she used to poop right outside of my bedroom door as a puppy, or how she peed in my bed when I'd been gone too long and then just watched me with innocence in her eyes as I crawled between the sheets. Or the time that I found a large kitchen knife carefully placed across the doorway to her kennel. Should I be sleeping with one eye open, Dog?

But sometimes she's not too bright, like when Brian and Beth play hide and seek with her and it takes her forever to find Brian hiding behind the chair...the same place he was the last time they played the game...2 minutes ago.

Today we came home and saw that the dogs had broken into the closet and helped themselves to the bag of rawhide chews. Clever. Needless to say we were greeted by happy dogs and a pile of bones. Hannah took one out to the yard to hide for later. She's never been great at burying things, but that hasn't stopped her from making an effort. I noticed her flinging the landscaping rock around with her snout and decided to investigate. This is what I found:

Again, I waver. Is this lunacy or out of the box thinking at its finest? Either way, she's got some work to do on the burying skills. But I'll at least give her some creativity points.

Freedom for Captives

As I reflect on what God did as a result of our V-Week outreach, I am reminded again and again of these sweet verses from Isaiah 61:1-3

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.

This was the message that we were hoping to convey through our evening program, and let me just say that our speaker did an incredible, God-honoring job of doing just that. She communicated her own story of pain and healing in a very real and accessible way to a group of 30 women. There was something in her story and the way that she communicated it that made it very accessible to everyone in the room.

We knew that one thing we did not want to do with the evening was have anyone feel like we pulled a "bait and switch" move on them by inviting them to an event where they would feel trapped by someone sharing the Gospel with them. So, we took a break partway through our speaker's story, letting everyone know that the second part of the evening would be primarily about how Jesus entered into her healing process. We let the women know that if they weren't comfortable listening to that part of the story, they were free to leave at the break, judgment-free. We simply wanted to honor to women wherever they happened to be in their spiritual journeys.

I was shocked to look around the room after the break and see that NO ONE left. And after the program was done, the majority of the women lingered in groups talking quietly with one another. An hour after the program was done, I looked across the room to see my teammate, Amie, sitting next to a young student named Amanda and holding open a familiar booklet and sharing about how she could know God personally. Amie came up to me later and told me what the freshman had said to her, "That part about God knocking at the door of my heart: well, He's doing that. I just don't know how to open the door. Can you tell me how to open the door?"

Wow. That's a "pinch-me" sort of moment in campus ministry. This particular student comes from an LDS background and said that she really needed to think through and process what Amie shared with her about Jesus. Please pray for Amanda. Pray that she would come to know the Truth and that the Truth would, indeed, set her free.

Beauty for Ashes

This week is V-Week at Westminster: a campus-wide event to raise awareness about sexual violence against women. Today we joined in and spent the lunch rush at the student union handing out these roses to women. I thoroughly enjoyed spectating as Amie and Danielle offered a flower to every woman that passed. I don't know how they did it, but I think they engaged with every single woman walking by. And while not everyone took them up on the offer, it certainly wasn't because they weren't given the opportunity!

My favorite part was watching their faces light up as they realized that the rose was free and came with nothing more than an invitation attached. One woman even left skipping. But I'd say that student might be particularly prone to skipping.

Amie and Danielle sought out the more "invisible" women: those hiding behind earphones and hats pulled low, food service, and custodial staff. It was this group of invisible women that appeared to be the most startled and blessed by the offered rose. Those were the sweetest smiles to see.

The darndest things...

One of the really fun parts of my job is all of the one on one coffee dates that I get to have with women who are a part of our ministry. Recently I had a conversation that left me in stitches. When I asked one student what God was teaching her, she said, "Lately I've been reading the Bible and it applies perfectly to my life."

"Oh really?! Tell me more..."

"Well, I just read in Leviticus about menstruating women. That pretty much describes where I'm at."

"It is my first time play bowling."

Once a month we combine the men's and women's small groups at Westminster and do some sort of social activity. Last night we went bowling.

One of the newest additions to our small group this semester is a young woman that just moved to Westminster as an international student from China. She is a Christian, and since I'm not sure if there are any security issues for her, I won't post her picture or use her real name. I'll just call her Kelly. Kelly doesn't speak too much English yet, but she's so outgoing that it doesn't seem to make a difference. She was excited to go bowling and doubly excited to have remembered her camera.

As we were walking in from the parking lot we noticed Kelly had fallen behind. Why? She was standing in the middle of the parking lot taking a picture of the front of the bowling alley. Pictures, pictures, everywhere.

Kelly, it turns out, had some beginner's luck. After her first spare she was jumping and screaming and announced to our group, "See, I told you Chinese people is smart." After her second spare she was running so excitedly to high-five me that she almost ran over another student who stepped in to congratulate her. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

As we were leaving and complimenting her on her bowling accomplishments she just said over and over, "Thank you. You so friendly."

I can't wait until she gets some more English under her belt and is able to communicate with us more clearly. Something tells me she's got a lot of great stories to share.

This one's for Little Heidi

So maybe I just wanted to be able to use the phrase, "After a one year hiatus, Emily has returned to the blogging scene." Or maybe I figure the common man needs some quality humor now that Conan is off the air and we're left with Jimmy Fallon? Or maybe, just maybe, I'm coming out of a communication funk....

Heidi, as the one person I know who actually checks this page, this brief announcement is for you: I'm back!!

That's it. Don't really have too much time or blogworthy news to rocket out into cyberspace. But surely I'll come up with something in the next few days.

Three reasons why I love what I do

I'd like you to meet (from left to right) Jackie, Amie, and Josh.  They're cozied up with "Aunt Em," a Westminster College landmark on Halloween afternoon (which explains the fairy wings).  These three students have been a great highlight to my time in Utah so far.  

Even though they all attend the same small school, they didn't really get to know each other until our fall retreat.  And I'd say about a week after that they became something akin to the Musketeers.  

Each Wednesday morning they make the ultimate sacrifice that college students can make: they wake up early and meet us in their dining hall at 8am.  This is the only time that they can all get together with us and their commitment to showing up each week is so sweet.  

Westminster is a small, private liberal arts college.  The students that attend are intimidatingly intelligent.  More than once I've found myself telling Jackie, "Well, it's not like you snuck in here on the Stupid Scholarship."  Their intelligence and their passion have combined, at the moment, to create an environment that seems very hostile to the Gospel.  

This is the environment where Josh, Jackie and Amie live.  And these are the students that they are committed to reaching.  Jackie told me one day, "I think God brought me from Oregon to Utah just to reach this campus."  She and Josh are both freshmen, but already desiring to take leadership in their movement on campus.  Honestly, I can't wait to see what God does with this group in the next 3 years.  

Take a moment, would you, and pray with me that God will continue to give us vision for reaching Westminster College with the Gospel.  Pray that He would use these students to introduce others to life-changing relationships with Jesus.

We used to have a roof over the deck...

What kills me about this is that the roof collapsed because the wood gave way under the weight of the snow (not that much snow, either).  Flimsy plastic?  That held up like nobody's business.

Say what?!

Overheard in this morning's sermon: "Jesus was with his inner circle.  Peter Jennings and John..."

That's what I heard.  It's not what the pastor said.  Guess it's a good thing that I don't work as the girl that types closed captions, eh?  

Pick-up line of the century

I meant to post this a few weeks ago, but thankfully it's the kind of story that is, shall we say, timeless.

My roommates and I were sitting in a local pizza joint after a movie when a random guy came in and walked up to me saying, "I just got some gummy pizza candy out of the vending machine outside.  Would you like a slice?"

"Oh, no thanks," I say, "I'm trying to quit all varieties of gummy candy."

"Well that's too bad, 'cause I was going to ask you out, but I just couldn't bring myself to date anyone that doesn't eat gummy candy."  He walked a few steps away to the soda fountain.  Me, I'm sitting with my roommates still in shock over the strangeness of what just happened.  

That's when gummy pizza boy pipes up again, "What I mean to say is you're out of my league."  

And a moment later he continues,"Did I say that right?  What I mean to say is that you are Charmin Ultra and I am generic brand."  

Seriously, how is a girl supposed to respond to this sort of comment? 

My special friend returned to the table one more time to clarify, "You're Angel Soft and I am the kind that hurts."

Wow.  

Thanks, Gummy Pizza Boy, for making me laugh until I cried.   And while he didn't exactly sweep me off my feet, maybe, just maybe, he wiped me off of them.

The Utah Life

So it's been a while since I've posted.  I can hardly believe that I've been in Utah for almost 2 months!  There is so much to say, but I'll keep it short and tell you that I absolutely love my job, love my team, love the students we work with, and love the scenery!  Here are a few photos of the first 2 months in Utah.  There's me with my teammate/roommate Julie, teammate Alex, Ultimate Dodge ball at our fall retreat and tailgating with our University of Utah students before a Utes game.  

(This is Hannah drunk on belly scratches.  Such a clown!)